Page 47 of Get A Fix

Other women had similar reactions, and the men, in their suits, as well. But Gemma didn’t care about them, only me.

I crouched, and she hit me like a missile, immediately putting her arms around my neck. I rose easily with her nestled tight to my chest.

“Oh, her hand is on your shoulder,” Elaine announced, horrified, and everyone around me looked just as sympathetic. “You’re going to have to get that cleaned.”

“Which is fine,” Ash said, stepping around the people crowding him. “Who’s your cute friend?”

“This is Gemma,” I told him, smiling at the dimpled cherub. “And her parents are probably having a seizure wherever they are in this…room.”

I glanced around and saw Ainsley waving both arms at me from across the room like she was signaling for a ship. She mouthed the word sorry. I gestured back, holding up two fingers in question, and she presented her half-empty table with a flourish. The tables all sat ten, and there were only five of them there at the moment. Technically, Taylor was in his seat on top of the table, and I had Gemma.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t sit here. We had previous plans,” I told everyone, glancing over at Kendra, who had followed us, and giving her a thumbs-up. I got one back and a nod of understanding. “You, c’mere,” I ordered Ash. “You see the lady standing up toward the back with the kids?”

“Yes,” he said, starting across the floor with me right behind him.

People yelled out his name, and he smiled and waved but kept walking. When he announced to the room that he was excited to be there for the wedding, many people clapped, while I was betting others had no idea what was going on.

When we reached the table, Ainsley was up quickly, cleaning first her daughter, who did not want to be put down, and then scrubbing at the left shoulder of my navy pinstripe suit and right behind my neck.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized, looking like she was about to cry. “But she saw you before either me or Jeff did, and just scrambled out of the seat, and now⁠—”

“It’s fine,” I assured her. “It’s mashed potatoes, who cares. That’s what dry cleaning is for. It’s a suit, not some silk heirloom.”

She turned to Ash and offered him her hand. “Huge fan of yours.”

He took her hand in both of his. “Thank you.”

“Me too,” Jeff chimed in, joining us.

Ash shook his hand next and then met the kids—the boys had no clue who he was.

Gemma, who was now clean, wrapped her arms around my neck and put her head down, whispering to me.

“What did she say?” Jeff asked me.

“That you tried to make her eat a carrot. Carrots are for bunnies, not girls.”

“Of course,” he said, chuckling.

“Your daughter seems to like him,” Ash teased Ainsley.

“Well, that’s because he saved me, Gemma, and my baby earlier today. You’re a very lucky man.”

“Yes, ma’am, I know.”

Her sigh was long.

Once we sat down, Jeff offered to take his daughter, but her scream of outrage was loud. Some people cast disparaging looks, others of sympathy. Ainsley just looked at the table and didn’t even try to move her daughter.

“You can eat with one hand if someone cuts your meat,” Joey informed me.

“I can do that,” Ash offered.

He got a big smile in return.

“Stop being embarrassed,” Ash told Ainsley. “Your children are amazing, and anyway, who cares. As long as no one screams during the wedding vows, you’re good.”

“I follow you on Instagram,” she told him. “I knew you were a nice man with how well you take care of your rescue dog.”